Home is Wherever I'm With You
by OoZolaoO
Summary: Klaine oneshots, fluff galore. In which Kurt and Blaine watch Burlesque...sort of. Diet Coke and Spiderman references included.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: I've spent most of my Christmas break reading Glee fanfiction (mostly Klaine), and finally I've gotten the inspiration to write a little more of my own! I love love LOVE Blaine and all the possibilities his character has, so I've decided to take up this little project. This story is going to be a collection of oneshots filling in the gaps in the Klaine relationship, from little dorm moments to Warblers rehearsal...basically all the stuff that isn't on the show, the stuff that keeps Blaine and Kurt such good friends.**

**I'm going to be writing cannon for now (they're not dating...yet), though I will be embellishing a little, since Blaine isn't one we've heard a lot about. Anyways, I hope you enjoy! The prompts for these oneshots have been found in various places on the internet.**

**I don't own Glee or the character or any of the music mentioned in my stories.  
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**One**

**Prompt:**** "You don't love it. Not like I do."  
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"Kurt, can't we please talk about this?" Blaine leaned up against his friend's door, running his hands through his hair in frustration. When there was no response, he rapped his knuckles against the worn wood. "Please?"

He was again met with silence. Blaine sighed. "Kurt-"

He wasn't quite sure what he was going to say next, so maybe it was a good thing that Kurt opened the door just then. But Blaine didn't think of that until later, after he finished nursing his injured dignity. As it was, Blaine all but tumbled into Kurt's room.

"Hey, um, sorry about that," Blaine quickly hopped to his feet, shaking his head with what he hoped was a disarming smile. He could feel a bruise forming where his shoulder had collided with Kurt's bedframe; it was hard to turn on the charm when his arm was throbbing.

It didn't help his composure when Kurt snorted in laughter. "Are you okay?" He stepped back, eyeing Blaine with a critical eye. Probably making sure his clothes weren't wrinkled, Blaine thought with a twinge of amusement. "Did you hit your head?"

Or, maybe not. "No, just my shoulder, but it's fine," Blaine brushed it off, sticking his hands in the pockets of his blazer out of habit. He watched Kurt's eyes tighten as their earlier conversation came rushing back - Blaine almost expected Kurt to kick him out of his room. "Hey, Kurt-"

"You don't love it. Not like I do," Kurt interrupted him, crossing his arms in annoyance. Blaine was a little lost before he realized what Kurt was referring to.

"Well then you should have _said_ something," he commented, crossing the small space and sinking onto Kurt's neatly-made bed. "The guys are used to me singing Katy Perry, so they assumed I'd be the only one who would want to do Gaga."

"They still should have let us try out for solos, though," Kurt whined.

Blaine's eyes widened. "Kurt Hummel, are you _pouting_?" A gleeful grin spread across his face. Kurt blushed instantly, ducking his head. Blaine pulled himself from the bed and followed as the young countertenor turned his back to him. "I didn't realize you were such a diehard Gaga fan. I'm sorry, if I had known I would have told Wes to let you try for a solo or something."

"You'd still have gotten it, though." Kurt replied stubbornly. "Because-" He stopped, biting his lip. Blaine was shocked to see the beginnings of tears glimmering in his blue-green eyes. His lovely, long-lashed blue-green eyes.

"Wait, hold on a second," Blaine cut in, placing himself determinedly between Kurt's gaze and the wall. "This…this isn't just about the Lady Gaga number, is it?"

"Of course it is," Kurt's reply was forced. Blaine wasn't convinced.

"No, it's not. What's going on, Kurt?" he continued, staring gently at Kurt until his friend met his eyes.

Kurt drew a shaky breath, flicking his eyes away. "It's nothing, Blaine, don't worry about it." He pulled away, crossing to his bed and sinking into a tailor's seat on the dark comforter. "I'm just…"

"Just what?" Blaine sank onto the bed beside him.

"Homesick," Kurt whispered, and Blaine felt his heart melt a little bit. "Mercedes commented on one of my Facebook pictures from when we did Gaga in Glee at McKinley, and then I started looking through all of them and really missing my friends, and _then_ I found out about the Warblers number…" he trailed off.

Blaine was silent, letting Kurt breathe for a moment. Pavarotti chirped quietly in his cage atop Kurt's dresser.

"I'm sorry, Blaine, I didn't mean to just…explode." Kurt laughed softly. "I'm tired, I guess."

Blaine glanced at his watch. "Well, it is almost eleven. It's been a crazy day, what with that Warblers practice this afternoon." Their two-hour rehearsal had turned into a three-and-a-half-hour practice once they started trying to work through the Gaga harmonies - the pop star hadn't exactly written her music for a capella choirs.

"Yeah. I guess I should finish my homework." Kurt stood, and Blaine recognized a polite dismissal. He rose also, pausing to place his hand on Kurt's shoulder.

"Don't worry about it, Kurt. You're allowed to miss your old life - it's not like Dalton and McKinley are anything alike at all. Promise me you'll text me if you need anything?" His eyes were searching.

Kurt swallowed. "Promise. Really."

Blaine squeezed his shoulder gently. "All right, get some rest. See you tomorrow morning."

It wasn't thirty minutes later when Blaine's phone buzzed gently against his thigh. He flipped it open, prepared to make the trek to the junior dorms no matter what time of night it was. It was a text message from Kurt.

_Thank you, Blaine. Sleep well :) x_

Blaine snapped his phone shut again. "I'm still the bigger Gaga fan," he whispered to himself with a smile.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N; Sorry guys, this one's a little shorter than I wanted it to be, but at least it's here :) Anyways, thank you all so, so much for the wonderful reception of the first chapter! Only three of you left reviews, but I grinned like an idiot every time I opened my email and saw a new alert or favorite :) You guys rock! However, I know the fandom has an awful reputation for not leaving reviews - let's prove them wrong, shall we? Even if it's only like two words, I love all of them :)**

**Anyways, without further ado, here's chapter two! Look at me, I'm a poet and didn't even know it. Aaaaanyways, so. The prompt here was "My doctor told me to stop having intimate dinners for four. Unless there are three other people." - yes, there were like six billion directions I could have gone, haha, but I love love love the little Klaine dorm hangout scenes. Don't worry, there's going to be some lovely fluff coming up in the future ;) But, for now, enjoy!**

**I don't own Glee or anything else. Story title is from Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeroes' song "Home."**

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**Two**

**Prompt: "Dinners for Four"**

"My doctor told me to stop having intimate dinners for four. Unless there are three other people."

Kurt burst into laughter. Blaine pursed his lips, whirling on Kurt with a mock glare.

"Okay, you're totally not allowed to be here if you're just going to laugh at me."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Kurt choked out, wiping tears from his eyes. "It's just…_really?_"

"It's in the monologue!" Blaine brandished the printout dramatically. "_I_ didn't write it!"

"Well then who did?" Kurt rolled over onto his stomach on Blaine's bed, still chuckling. Blaine plopped down next to him with a sigh, absently nudging his friend's feet off the covers.

"The guys in Film 101 are writing pieces for my drama class to work on. This one was written by…Mitchell somebody."

The lead Warbler almost fell off his bed as Kurt suddenly shrieked, grabbing for the paper with a shouted "_Let me see it!_"

Blaine righted himself, spluttering in exasperation. "What the - Kurt, what's gotten into you?"

Kurt wasn't listening. He was tracing the signature on the top of the monologue with trembling fingers. "Blaine, Blaine, Blaine, Blaine, do you know who _wrote_ _this_?"

"Yeah, Mitchell someone, he's a-"

"He's a _model_, Blaine!" Kurt's voice had risen half an octave, and Blaine winced.

"Mitchell _Friberg_, Blaine, is in my grade, and he is…oh god, Blaine, he is…gorgeous." Kurt's eyes were glazing over, and a goofy grin was spreading on his face.

Blaine narrowed his eyes. "Wait, the dude with the curly hair? His locker is a few down from yours?" No, Blaine totally didn't know exactly where Kurt's locker was. Of course he didn't sneak glances at that part of the junior hallway whenever he was in the vicinity - of _course _he didn't make detours to see if he could catch Kurt between classes.

"_Yes, _Blaine, that's Mitchell Friberg," Kurt sighed dreamily. "He's a god."

Blaine felt his stomach drop, and he bit his lip. "Well, his scriptwriting could use some work," he said after a moment. Kurt dismissed his comment with a flick of his hand.

"Whatever, Blaine, he's totally gorgeous. He had this Dolce & Gabbana scarf on earlier? _Totally_ brought out his eyes."

Blaine cleared his throat and snatched the paper from Kurt. "Anyways. I've - do you mind if I keep rehearsing? I've got to learn this for Friday's class."

"Oh, yeah, sorry, go ahead." Kurt rolled to his back again, gazing up at the ceiling. "I'm listening."

"Are you sure?" Blaine asked quietly.

"What do you mean? Of course I'm listening." Kurt flicked his gaze over to Blaine, smiling as he watched his friend upside-down.

"I just…whatever. Okay, from the top." Blaine sighed, trying to shift his focus back to the monologue. But after several tries, it was clear his heart wasn't in it.

"Maybe we should take a break," Kurt supplied, flipping to his stomach to look Blaine in the eye. He yawned, making a sound like a tired puppy. Blaine smiled in spite of himself.

"That's probably a good idea." He slid onto the bed next to Kurt, trying to ignore the soft heat he felt radiating from his lean body. "I was watching Devil Wears Prada earlier - do you want to -"

"Um, of course!" Kurt cut him off with a sardonic smile. "Did you really just have to ask me that?"

As Blaine pulled up the DVD menu and Kurt curled up next to him, he realized he felt just a little bit better. Just a little bit.

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**Don't worry, lovely readers, there's some freakin' awesome fluff coming up in the next chapter :) Next chapter's prompt: "Rain."**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **I have been writing so much more lately, and it's all because of you guys! I'm literally getting notifications every day, and it's become my most alerted story! Give yourselves a hand :)

I'm having tons of fun with these little Klaine oneshots - normally I can't write oneshots without turning them into something linear, but I'm finding out that I could sit around and write Klaine fluff all day. So much love. So, to continue to tide you guys over in these depressing gap weeks, here's chapter three! Prompt on this one is "Rain," and I'm considering carrying it over into the next chapter. Thoughts?

Insert disclaimer heeeeeere, and here we go!

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**Three**

**Rain  
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Blaine wrapped his arms around his torso and shivered as he made his way down the steps, blinking against the fine drizzle of rain. He squinted through the misty curtain, trying to estimate the distance back to Dalton. Mrs. Neely's house was a seven minute walk from the edge of campus on a normal day; if he hurried, he could probably make it back in five.

He shook out his hair in annoyance as he picked up his pace to a steady trot. Unfortunately, running through the rain wasn't exactly the best way to stay dry. He felt like he'd read somewhere that you get just as wet running as you would taking your time…but wet or not, Warblers practice started in ten minutes, and he wasn't about to be late.

His twice-weekly tutoring session with Mrs. Neely usually didn't conflict with Warblers rehearsal - Mrs. Neely had a son at Dalton, and she understood how busy the boys stayed - but she had family coming in town, and Blaine wasn't about to miss a session with his calculus mid-term in a few days.

Blaine was a pretty good student (he could say that even with his ever-present modesty), but he and math had never really gotten along. But to get into an Ivy, he couldn't simply settle for AP Calculus AB. No, Blaine had gritted his teeth and enrolled in AP Calculus BC, knowing he was in for a struggle as soon as he signed the scheduling agreement. Thankfully he had Mrs. Neely. Her help was the only thing keeping Blaine from losing his stellar grade-point average.

He glanced up at the sky, slowing his pace as he watched the growing clouds. The mounting thunderheads on the horizon line were an intriguing shade of blue-gray, much like the eyes of - Blaine stopped himself, lowering his head as raindrops began to collect along his cheekbones. Thankfully he was only three or four minutes from the edge of campus now, but the rehearsal hall was on the other side of the academic complex. Blaine shouldered his backpack and walked a little faster.

A chill wind swept across the suburban sidewalks, and he shrank back against the warm lining of his jacket. The pelting rain had increased in tempo, and he was starting to get cold and very wet. His dark hair hung limp and stringy, curling gratefully as the gel washed away. He was unhappy to find that its icy tendrils were dripping down the back of his neck, soaking the inside of his collar as well. He would be a mess when he got to rehearsal.

As Blaine reentered Dalton's campus, he paused. One Kurt Hummel was standing just outside the junior dorms, glaring distastefully up at the rain as he huddled under a sleek black umbrella (Blaine didn't know the make). Blaine could see him pursing his lips; he imagined he was debating if rehearsal was worth messing up his hair. With a smile, Blaine cupped his hands to his mouth.

"Hey, Kurt!" He called, his warm tenor carrying above the staccato of the rain. Kurt jumped, scanning his soggy surroundings until he saw Blaine. Blaine waved cheerily, and a grin spread across Kurt's face.

"Blaine, you're absolutely soaking!" Kurt beckoned, yelling over the sound of the rain as Blaine drew closer. "Come here!"

Blaine obediently ducked under the umbrella, shooting Kurt a mischievous smile before shaking his hair like a dog. He laughed as Kurt yelped, retreating as far as he could without leaving the dry zone.

"Why are you so adorable?" Blaine asked playfully as he took in Kurt's bright yellow slicker and matching rain boots. Kurt was eyeing him warily, waiting to see if he was going to spray him again.

"I was much more adorable before you came and soaked me," he pouted, though Blaine could see his smile returning. "Oh God, Blaine, look at your hair!"

Blaine dragged his fingers through the resurrected curls, making a face. "Yeah, that kind of happens when it rains." He made as if to shake his hair again and grinned as Kurt flinched away.

"You're going to freeze in the rehearsal hall," Kurt said self-importantly, pulling Blaine with him as he began to move away from the dormitory. "Why are you so wet anyways?"

"Because it's raining," Blaine replied cheekily, holding up his hands in surrender as Kurt shot him a sidelong glare. "No, I had tutoring off-campus. Calculus."

"Why on earth would you put yourself through that?" Kurt shook his head. "Calculus, not the tutoring. Besides, you're a genius anyways. Any Ivy's going to be overjoyed to have you."

A flush grew on Blaine's cheeks. "I wish," he remarked casually, but inside he was glowing. "Mrs. Neely's helping a lot. She's totally saved my grade."

The rain was coming down even harder now, parting in a cylinder around the umbrella, and Kurt gingerly picked his way around the worst of the puddles forming on the sidewalks. The two of them were having difficulty fitting together under the umbrella. Blaine gallantly edged out of the dryness, leaving more room for his friend.

"Do you want my rain jacket?" Kurt piped up. "I'm under the umbrella, you can have my jacket to keep you dry."

Blaine was going to refuse, but a glance into Kurt's dazzling eyes threw off his sense of chivalry. "I guess that'd probably make more sense." The two boys stopped under the edge of a building as Kurt set down the umbrella and shrugged off the raincoat. The jacket was already warm, and Blaine slid into it gratefully.

"Thanks." He shot him a warm smile, and Kurt immediately flushed.

"Come on, we should probably get to rehearsal before Wes and David lock us out," Kurt suggested, only barely covering his rising blush.

"You're probably right," Blaine chuckled. "We know where they sleep, though - we could leave something nasty on their pillows later."

"Definitely." Kurt flashed him a smile of his own, and even though he was still saturated, Blaine felt significantly warmer as they made their way back across campus.

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**A/N 2; **I do have a list of prompts that I'm working from, but I'm still looking for ideas! What would you guys like to see?


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **Hiya folks! I'm kind of breaking my pattern on this one and doing it Kurt-centric - I just couldn't get it to work any other way, and Kurt was determined :3 This is my way of dealing with Glee withdrawal. 'Sexy' had better be gooooood.

Anyways, here's oneshot #4! The prompt I worked from is **Predatory.**

**I don't own gleeeeee.**

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_Predatory_

Kurt slammed into the Warblers Hall, staring at his phone in concern. "Blaine, I got your message," he panted. "What's going-"

He stopped as something soft and white hit him in the forehead and bounced to the floor. Kurt blinked and looked up just in time to be nailed by a flurry of marshmallows.

"What on earth?" he spluttered, holding his hands to his face as they kept coming, pelting him mercilessly.

"ATTAAAAAAAACK!" Wes and Thad sprang out from behind a couch, brandishing marshmallow guns with feral grins. The door slammed shut behind Kurt as Jeff leapt forward with a war whoop and blocked the exit with his body.

"You'll never escape now, Hummel!" Thad crowed, reloaded his marshmallow gun with a dramatic flourish.

Kurt had been at Dalton long enough to know that asking questions rarely got him anywhere. Instead, he hit the deck as Thad and Wes renewed their attack, throwing himself into a poorly-executed log roll as he tried to spare his clothing.

Kurt came out of his roll and sprang for the door at the other end of the Warblers Hall. He was less than half a dozen strides away when his stylish Sperrys topsiders caught the edge of a rug. The countertenor went down in what felt like slow-motion - he could almost see his attackers loping towards him in freeze-frame. When he opened his eyes, he found himself staring up at Wes, Thad, and Jeff, outlined against the ornate ceiling and grinning maliciously. Kurt curled up into a little ball.

"Do what you want with me, but don't touch my hair." His voice was muffled against his hands clasped over his face. He heard the slow click of a marshmallow gun reloading and braced himself for the onslaught…

More battle cries rent the air - too many to come from only three Warblers - and Kurt curled in tighter as running footsteps shook the floor beneath him. Whatever the hell was going on, it was sure to be over soon.

"Kurt, Kurt, Kurt,_ get up_!" A beautifully familiar voice shouted, and Kurt peeked through his fingers to see Blaine above him. He had tossed his blazer to the side and discarded his tie, and his shirt-tails were untucked and trailing. He pointed a massive SuperSoaker water gun at the retreating marshmallow-shooters, brandishing it protectively as he stood over Kurt.

Kurt obediently scrambled to his feet, ducking behind Blaine as soon as he was standing. "Can I ask what's going on?" he breathed in Blaine's ear, watching with wide eyes as four Warblers armed with similar water guns cornered Wes, Jeff, and Thad behind the Council table.

"There's no time for questions in warfare," Blaine snapped back, cocking his weapon with an expression disturbingly similar to Lara Croft. Or Indiana Jones, Kurt noted, if he used a gun. "We fight to the death!"

Kurt grasped his shoulder before Blaine could go running off again. He was pleased when the lead Warbler jumped, flushing slightly at the contact.

"I'm not _armed_, Blaine, what do I _do?_" he emphasized each word carefully.

Blaine bit his lip. "Umm. Find a safe spot?" Kurt threw him his patented '_Bitch, Please_' stare. Blaine paused, his eyes flicking nervously back to the battle. "Okay, okay, fine. Watch my back." He pulled away from Kurt's touch and dashed off towards his other teammates. Jeff had immediately thrown up his hands in surrender, while Wes and Thad were back-to-back like a scene out of _Star Wars_.

"You'll never take us alive, Anderson!" Wes snarled, his eyes darting back and forth as he looked for a way out.

"You have no use to me alive, Wesley," Blaine replied, his voice low and dangerous. Kurt felt a shiver run up his spine.

Nick and one of the other water-gun bearers had stepped in towards Wes and Thad when another group of Warblers hurtled through the door, waving marshmallow guns over their heads with wild war whoops.

"Blast!" Blaine spat, whirling to face David and the incoming reinforcements. Kurt took a hint and slowly began backing towards the nearest door.

"CHAAAARGE!" David cried as his group thundered into the room with guns blazing. Blaine and his Warblers ran to meet the charge, yelling what sounded like Shakespearean insults. Kurt slipped out the door just as Blaine roared, "_Step aside, thou froward spur-galled skainsmate!" _Yep, it was definitely time to go.

It was nearly an hour later when a knock on his door roused Kurt. "It's open," he called out, glancing up from the sheet music spread across his bed.

A dripping wet Blaine Anderson let himself in. "Hey," he grinned, running a hand through his hair. Nearly a dozen curls had broken free of their gelled prison, creating a little halo of black curls that gave him a very fuzzy appearance.

Kurt arched an eyebrow. "Why are you wet?"

Blaine shot him a sidelong glance. "What do you mean? You saw it down there, it was total chaos."

"I thought _you_ guys had the water guns," Kurt pointed out.

A sheepish grin spread on Blaine's face, and he reached back to rub his neck. "Yeah, Nick pulled a Benedict Arnold on us. Try fighting off both marshmallows _and_ water guns."

Kurt noticed several patches of what looked like soggy marshmallow goo on Blaine's clothing, and he shuddered delicately. "I'll grab you a towel," he offered, beginning to slide from the bed.

"No, it's fine, I'll get it," Blaine countered, already moving towards the bathroom. He reappeared a moment later, rubbing his scruffy hair with a tattered yellow towel he knew Kurt kept for circumstances like this. Blaine knew better than to use Kurt's treasured Egyptian Cotton to rub off his marshmallow goo. Kurt bit back a smile.

"Who won?"

"Who won?" Blaine repeated, staring blankly. "Ah…I don't know, actually." He laughed. "Sorry about that. I know we all looked kind of nuts down there."

"Yeah, you kind of did," Kurt replied with the beginnings of a smirk. "Honestly, I just about had a heart attack when I came in and got attacked by marshmallows." He crossed his legs under him. "Were you leading me into an ambush, Blaine Anderson?"

"Oh, my text?" Blaine sank onto the bed next to him. "No, sorry, you were supposed to meet up with us and hear the battle plan. I guess Wes was still angry you weren't on their side - I called you for ours like a week ago - and set a trap. They were in our territory anyways." His eyes darkened, and Kurt almost laughed.

"Well, I'm glad it turned out okay."

"Yeah, me too." Blaine flashed him a smile, which Kurt returned a little shyly. He normally wasn't one for - well, for teenage boy stuff, but he thought this time he could make an exception. Just for Blaine.

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**Review review review! :D Show those stereotypes who's boss!**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** Hiya folks! This is kind of an unexpected update - the lovely **Lemonade Mouth** and I swapped drabbles on Tumblr, and she gave me the prompt **Clay**. Hence the following chapter :)

Quick reminder as always to check out my other fics - I published a Brittana piece a few days ago, and I also have some stuff for House, Bones, and A:TLA, if you're interested :3 Also also, I'm on Tumblr! You can find me at http:/ brighteyesbigdreams . tumblr . com [without the spaces]. I'd love to hear from you guys, and if you give me prompts I'm more than happy to write requests ;) PLUS I REBLOG GORGEOUS PICTURES OF CHRIS COLFER AND DARREN CRISS SOTHERE.

Ahem. I still don't own Glee.

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_Clay_

Sunday brunch was definitely Kurt's favorite part of Dalton. Sure, he loved the Warblers, and he loved the people _in_ Warblers (no one in particular, of course). He loved the campus, the tolerance, and the classes (even if they periodically kicked his butt), along with just about everything else at his new school. But the option of Sunday morning brunch made the top of his list without much thought.

Every Sunday he woke to the gentle brush of sunlight streaming through his dorm room window and happily made his way to his closet. Sunday brunch was a special occasion – most of the students in attendance went to church beforehand, so Kurt had a perfectly good reason to dress up. Picking out his outfit for Sunday morning took up at least half an hour of his Saturday night.

The young Warbler was making his way back to his dorm one bright and beautiful Sunday when he all but tripped over a very familiar curly-haired tenor, sprawled ungracefully the patio outside the senior dorms. Blaine was barefoot, dressed in stone-washed jeans and a worn AC/DC T-shirt. Perched below his wiry hair were his obnoxious pink sunglasses. Kurt nudged him gently with a foot.

Blaine hardly stirred. "You're blocking the sun," he mumbled sleepily.

Kurt gazed down at him "Blaine…what are you doing?" he inquired, placing his hands on his hips. He could see Blaine's hazel eyes flick open beneath the tinted lenses, and the lead Warbler pulled himself into a sitting position.

"Hi, Kurt," he greeted him cheerily. "Wanna join me?"

"It depends." Kurt folded his arms across his chest with the beginnings of a smile. "Blaine – please look at your hair."

Blaine dragged his fingers through his curls in a swift, unconcerned motion. "Ehh, let it curl," he flapped a hand at Kurt, lowering himself back to the ground. "Come down here, the sun feels awesome." He stretched fluidly, yawning like a cat curled up in a puddle of sunlight.

"I'm fine, thanks." Kurt glanced down at his outfit: the black military-style jacket and scarf he had worn the day Blaine came to McKinley. There was no way.

"C'monnnnn, Kurt!" Blaine pulled off his sunglasses and fixed his puppy-eyes on Kurt. Once again…well, there was no way. Kurt reluctantly sank into a tailor's seat, trying as hard as he could to keep his clothes from wrinkling.

Blaine shot him a cheeky grin and replaced his sunglasses before sighing happily. "I always do this, when it finally starts getting warm again."

"Forming roadblocks?"

Blaine ignored his sarcasm. "No, lying out on this patio. The brick is the absolute best place to soak up the sun – it's like I'm on a frying pan or something." He paused to readjust his position.

"Sounds lovely, I'm sure," Kurt commented wryly.

There was another pause, then Blaine propped himself up on his elbows. "Here," he said, "lay down on me. It'll keep you from messing up your hair," he added in response to Kurt's incredulous look.

Yeah, like Kurt was going to refuse that. He put up a show of fussing quietly about his hair and clothes before he finally scooted towards Blaine. "Just…just, like, lay down?"

Blaine hummed softly in response.

Kurt couldn't help but glance around for other students before he lowered himself gently onto Blaine's chest, gazing up into the dazzling blue sky.

"Everyone sleeps 'till two on Sundays, don't worry about it." Kurt could feel Blaine's voice vibrating against him. A shiver ran down his spine.

"I wasn't," Kurt lied, shifting softly. "Tell me if I'm making you uncomfortable, like if it's, um, hurting you or anything."

Blaine flapped his hand. "You're fine."

_Yes_, Kurt thought smugly to himself. _Yes, I am._

And Kurt discovered his new favorite part of Dalton.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** Oh my goddd, I'm so incredibly sorry for the wait on this one. Honestly, the only writing I've been doing lately is roleplaying, and I feel AWFUL that I've let you guys down. But never fear, I'm determined to make it up to you. I'm currently working on the next chapter of my Glee/Star Wars crossover as well as a big multi-chap Klaine project that my lovely bestie and beta Zoey is helping me out with. But yeah. I haven't had the writing bug in a loooong time, so it'll take me a bit to get back into the flow of things.

Anyways, enjoy! I don't own Glee and make no profit from this little drabble.

Also, I set this little piece back after the Hudmels are moving into their new house. Kurt & Blaine are still at Dalton, and they're now DATING. Huzzah! I think this is my first piece after KLAINE'S BECOME CANON, BITCHES.

Ahem. On with the story.

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**Home is Wherever I'm With You**

Prompt: Bookshelf

"I can't believe how quickly you all moved in." Blaine paused in the doorframe of Kurt's bedroom, surveying the surprising lack of cardboard boxes. "We've been in our Westerville house for four years, and we _still_ can't find things."

Kurt shrugged, skipping over and perching delicately on the edge of his make-up stool. "Carole likes stuff like this. So do I, I guess."

"I can see that," Blaine teased, running his hand absently along the smoothly plastered walls. "You like your things neat and tidy."

"Well, I'm useless otherwise," Kurt said lightly, crossing his legs and primly placing his hands on his knee. "I love organizing." He paused, biting his lip. "When I was younger, my mom used to take me to Staples as a treat. School supply shopping was literally the highlight of my summer."

Blaine grinned at the mental image of a mini well-dressed Kurt bouncing around Staples. "My mom wishes I was more, um, shopping-inclined. It's like, if I'm gay, at least she can drag me to the mall." He made a face.

"I'll see if I can change that," Kurt said slyly, arching an eyebrow.

Blaine stuck his tongue out at him before turning away. "You wanted me to do your bookshelf, right?"

"I wanted you to _organize_ my bookshelf, yes." Kurt's voice was very close behind him, and he craned his neck to see his boyfriend only inches away. The wiry countertenor wrapped his arms around his waist from behind, nestling his head into his collarbone. "There will be no sexual exploits with any of my furniture."

Blaine laughed softly. "What, are you jealous?" His voice dropped to a lower, rougher tone, and he felt Kurt shiver against him.

"Nope," Kurt whispered in his ear, his breath warm and fizzy against Blaine's skin, and then he pulled away. Blaine watched him go with a pout.

"No snuggles until after you sort through my bookshelf," Kurt reprimanded him before turning to his vanity. "And if you interrupt me while I'm sorting through my skin-care products, so help me God I will _stir-fry you_ and leave you out for the vultures."

"Got it, no interrupting," Blaine said, snapping a cheeky salute before turning to the box of books at his feet. He was interested to see what sort of reading Kurt did - Blaine's mother always told him you could tell a lot about a person by what their bookshelf looked like. All Blaine was getting was that Kurt liked music (which he already knew) and had a borderline obsession with Broadway greats like Barbra Streisand and Patti LuPone (which he also already knew).

He was halfway through a stack of Vanity Fair when an ear-splitting shriek made him yelp and whirl around in surprise. Kurt hurtled across the room like a lithe cannonball, snatching the magazine from Blaine's hands and staring at him, aghast.

"_What_ are you doing?" He snapped, his eyes flipped wide in disbelief. Blaine took a step back, startled.

"Organizing your bookshelf?"

"You call _this_ organizing?" Kurt demanded, his voice climbing in pitch as he dramatically indicated the beginnings of Blaine's work. "What did you sort these by, _publisher's middle name?_"

"No!" Blaine said, affronted. "They're by author! Isn't that how everyone does their bookshelves?"

Kurt just stared at him, eyeing Blaine sharply as if to see if he was kidding him. "I don't know how _you_ do your bookshelves," he snapped, sweeping his books from the shelf in one deft arm movement, "but _mine_ is much more civilized than that. It's by subject, alphabetically, _then _by author's last name, and only if it's not by publishing date. And the biographies have an _entirely_ separate system of cataloguing." He stopped, looking at Blaine. "What?"

Blaine was biting his lip very hard to keep from laughing. "Did you ever think you might have OCD, babe?" he teased, leaning forward and gently pecking Kurt on the cheek. To his credit, Kurt only blushed a little bit.

"Whatever. Let me walk you through this one more time," he sniffed, only half-heartily shaking Blaine off as the Warbler snaked his arms around him and pressed a kiss to his neck.

"Mmhm, I'm paying attention," Blaine hummed, and closed his eyes happily as Kurt began to lecture about the importance of sheet music binders.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Okay, so I'm tryyyyying to be a better writer, so I wrote y'all a new chapter! I'm also trying to get back on my multichap - hopefully I can salvage some of it. Guh.

Zoey gave me the prompt of a really weird YouTube video involving "Baman an Piderman" and a missing sandwich...yeah. So. Here's where I got this one.

Anyways, thank you to my old readers for sticking with this, and hello to all my new readers! Welcome aboard the Klaine Train! :D

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In Which Blaine and Kurt (Sort Of) Watch Burlesque

Kurt glanced down at the sleeping Blaine on his shoulder and stuck his lower lip out in a pout. The two of them had curled up together to watch 'Burlesque,' but his poor boyfriend had had a long day - his eyes closed within seconds of the opening song. Kurt had half a mind to wake him up so they could comment on the movie together (after all, a movie held together solely by hairspray and Cam Gigandet's abs had prime commenting potential), but his conscience won over.

Blaine looked too adorable sleeping. His mouth drooped open a little bit, and he exhaled in gentle little puffs that rose and fell with the rhythm of his breathing.

So, yeah…it was damn hard to keep his hands off him. Kurt gently carded his fingers through the soft, ungelled hair above Blaine's ear, relishing in the ticklish brush against his skin. Blaine and Burlesque. He couldn't be happier.

The movie was three-quarters of the way over when Kurt decided he was thirsty. He stole another glance at snoozing Blaine and bit his lip. Cute as he was, a Diet Coke was definitely worth it. He gently nudged his boyfriend in the other direction until he slumped bonelessly against a pillow, making endearing snoring noises. Kurt's lips curved in a smile as he got up from the couch and headed towards the kitchen.

He had hardly crossed into the other room when a sleepy voice called out from the den. "You left me," Blaine slurred. His soft, uneven footsteps padded towards the kitchen, and Kurt looked up to see the dark-haired Warbler leaning up against the doorframe, rubbing his eyes blearily.

"I'm sorry, dear, I was thirsty," Kurt gestured apologetically with his Diet Coke. "And…Diet Coke."

Blaine made a face. "Can you get me some water?" He mumbled. His jaws widening in a giant yawn.

Kurt arched an eyebrow. "Come get it yourself, you can walk."

"But 'm tiiiiired," Blaine whined, pouting endearingly. Kurt bit back a smile.

"I wish I was Spiderman," Blaine continued, only semi-clearly.

"Um…why?"

Blaine rubbed at his eyes again. "'Cuz then I wouldn't have to walk over there. I could just-" he made a motion like he was shooting webs from his wrists.

"You are such a dork," Kurt smiled, crossing to Blaine and ruffling his hair affectionately. Blaine nuzzled against his hand like a puppy.

"Water?" He asked softly, making big, sad eyes at Kurt. Damn, Wes and David weren't kidding. The boy really _was_ a puppy.

"Fine," Kurt conceded, pressing a soft kiss to Blaine's mussed curls before going back to the sink. "But only because of your unfortunate lack of arachnid powers. Otherwise, you'd be on your own."

"I love you," Blaine said cheerily, flashing a warm, sleepy grin at Kurt that made his heart melt. Kurt handed Blaine the green plastic cup and nudged him back towards the living room.

"C'mon, you. You've got to at least stay awake long enough for Cam Gigandet."

"Mkay," Blaine mumbled, trailing behind Kurt complacently. "Only for him though. I dun wanna watch anymore Cher."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "I don't blame you." The two of them plopped happily back onto the couch, nestling happily together. Kurt glanced down at Blaine a few moments later to find that his boyfriend's eyes were closed again. He shook his head with a smile and gallantly reached over to rescue Blaine's water glass. They could finish the movie another time, he figured.

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a/n2: That movie is awesome...but it is liiiiiterally held together by hairspray and that sexy man's abs. Although Christina is pretty awesome as well - that girl can _move_. And sing, of course. Anyways, I'm totally considering writing Klaine watching Burlesque in another chap...because isn't that just so them? I loves it.

thanks for reading, loves! peace out.

AND REVIEW.


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